


It's Rock Bottom

by thatmitchsentho



Category: Pitch Perfect (Movies)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-30
Updated: 2016-07-30
Packaged: 2018-07-27 16:56:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,262
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7626565
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thatmitchsentho/pseuds/thatmitchsentho
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Beca Mitchell comes home one night and finds the unthinkable - Aubrey is gone and she's taken everything with her. Beca knows she's fucked up the best thing she's ever had and buries herself at the bottom of a bottle until she learns something that makes her realise that something has to change - and that something is her.</p>
            </blockquote>





	It's Rock Bottom

Beca had never understood the term "deafening silence." She got that it was one of those literary devices her dad was always rambling on about, but she just didn't see the need for a term like that. Silence was by definition, not loud. And people who called it deafening were fucking pretentious twats.

Except now she knew. She'd arrived home from work and the silence was pronounced. Normally Aubrey would have music on, or the TV would be on. Or she'd have something cooking so she might hear the bubble of something simmering or the hum of the range-hood exhaust. Or the shower would be running. There would be some sign of life, somewhere.

Not tonight.

The apartment was quiet and dark. She kicked her shoes off by the door and turned the light on. And something was very wrong. Aubrey's shoes weren't there. That was okay. But neither was her coat, and it was the middle of summer. She headed down the hall and turned into the living room. Her bookshelf full of legal volumes was empty. Beca's heart began to beat rapidly. No. Surely not.

She hurried into the bedroom and saw that the closet was now three quarters bare. She pulled open drawers and found them empty. She felt sick. She went into the bathroom and immediately began crying. Sitting on the vanity was the engagement ring she had bought Aubrey almost two years ago. She saw a folded piece of paper underneath it and picked it up.

_Beca_  
 _I know this seems harsh. But you promised things would change. You gave me this ring and we were happy. We were inseparable and we were perfect together._  
 _And then everything changed. You left me alone night after night, preferring to be at the studio until all hours of the morning and night, or out drinking with Jesse. You missed the appointments I made with the wedding planner and then you pushed the wedding back because Jesse told you to. You wouldn't listen to me on anything, but Jesse got top priority. I miss being the person you used to talk to. I actually just miss you, Beca. I miss the way you smile, the way you kiss me, the way you smell…_  
 _I told you two months ago that I needed you back. I needed you to talk to me and make me believe that this ring wasn't just something you gave me to shut me up, and you said okay. But nothing changed. God I wish it had changed._  
 _So I can't do it. I can't wait around anymore for you when you can't even call and tell me what time you're coming home, if you're even coming home at all. Because I need someone who needs me back and you clearly don't._  
 _I love you so damn much Beca Mitchell. But I'm just so tired and upset, and lonely, and those aren't things that people who love each other should feel. And honestly I don't remember feeling anything other than this for such a long time._  
 _Bree_  
  
Beca sank to her knees on the tile. Her breathing got rapid and she felt like she was suffocating. She ran back through the apartment and onto the balcony, needing fresh air. But as soon as she sucked it in, she retched, turning just in time to aim her vomit toward a potted plant instead of the floor.

Aubrey had done it. She'd left her. It wasn't really a surprise but it hurt like one. All the things Aubrey had said were true. They'd been so happy two years ago. Beca had been the kind of happy she'd never thought she'd get to be. Aubrey was beyond everything she'd ever hoped for in a partner. And she'd wanted to marry her, truly. When Beca had proposed, that wasn't a spur of the moment decision, or something she'd done to shut Aubrey up. She genuinely wanted to spend the rest of her life with her.

But Jesse had moved to town. At first it was nothing, just drinks between friends. It wasn't a problem to begin with, Aubrey was happy that Beca was reaching out. She didn't have much to do with him herself, but that was fine with her. So they'd go for drinks. On one such night, he'd casually remarked that it would be an awful lot of pressure being the one person that Aubrey Posen would be relying on for the rest of her life. Then it was encouraging to work harder, longer, taking more jobs, staying out for just one more drink. Then he slipped the thought in again – are you really going to be able to make her happy?

Something clicked in her.

She kept doubting herself after that. She wasn't going to be enough for Aubrey, no way. Not as a fiancée and not as a wife or a mother of their future children. She didn't even know what a healthy marriage looked like. Her parents had split when she was a teenager, though they really should have separated long before that. So she'd had feuding parents for as long as she could remember, then she had no father and a mother who was there in body but not much else. Then the bodily mother succumbed to the alcohol and her not-father was trying to be a father all over again. Of course, that only lasted until he found out that she preferred to date the fairer sex, and then she had no father again.

Aubrey couldn't be satisfied by a fuck up like her. She needed warm and stable and smart. Someone who could be trusted and relied on, who communicated and didn't run away from feelings. And Beca knew she was none of those things. But she pretended everything was fine, even when she knew it wasn't.

And now it had culminated in this moment. Aubrey was gone and she was barefoot on her balcony with vomit on her shirt and tears rolling down her face. She made her way back inside and found half a bottle of scotch, unscrewing the cap and taking a swig. Then she stripped her shirt off and stuck it in the laundry hamper. She grabbed a clean shirt and the bottle of alcohol and drained it sitting on the couch wondering how she had managed to fuck things up so monumentally.

She slept horribly and woke with a headache and a weight on her chest. She half stumbled into the bathroom and downed some aspirin, before going to grab some water out of the refrigerator and drinking some. Then she made her way back into the bedroom. It felt so cold with no trace of Aubrey in sight. Beginning to cry again, she crawled onto the bed and called the only person who would know where Aubrey was.

"Chloe?" she said in a pained whisper.

"Beca?"

"Is she there?"

"Yes," she said firmly. "She doesn't want to talk to you, Beca."

"Please put her on," Beca begged. "Please?"

"She doesn't want to talk to you," the other girl repeated. "You fucked this up bad, Mitchell."

"I know," Beca said, starting to cry. "I know I did. I fucked up the best thing that's ever happened to me, driven away the best person I've ever known. I get it."

"That's all well and good, but that doesn't change the fact that she doesn't want to talk to you," Chloe said. "You really hurt her. She's been crying over you for months, wondering how she could make you feel the way you used to. You fucking missed your last anniversary, did you even know that?"

"What?" she exclaimed, trying to remember. When she realised it had been three weeks ago her stomach sank.

"You were at the bar with Jesse. She spent the day cooking, she got dressed up, she bought new fucking lingerie and she waited for hours as the candles ran down and the food got cold," Chloe said. "And you didn't even remember." Beca sobbed.

"How did I let it get so bad?" she asked.

"You know how," Chloe said. "You spend so much time drinking with Jesse that you forgot about her. I have to go. She's been up all night crying, and I'm sure she's going to need aspirin."

"How do I get her back?"

"I have no idea," she said. "She hung in there for a long time, and you just pretended there was nothing wrong. She's hurting, and she's my best friend. You're my friend too, but I'm really angry at you for this one. You guys were amazing together and she fucking loves you. But now she's ruined." She heard the line go dead.

She dropped the phone and curled her body around a pillow. It smelled like Aubrey and it just made her cry harder. She didn't know what she was going to do. All she knew was that her head was aching like someone had rammed a hot poker through her temples.

She got back up and grabbed her sunglasses and her keys. She knew she probably shouldn't be driving but that thought was the furthest thing from her mind. There was a liquor store a couple of blocks over, and she bought another bottle of scotch, a lighter and two packets of cigarettes. Then she added another bottle for good measure because alcohol was for drowning sorrows and there was plenty of sorrow to be had.

She got back home and pulled a glass from the kitchen cupboard, poured herself a drink and sat on the couch. She lit up a cigarette and inhaled deeply. She hadn't smoked since she was a dumb teenager. She was bitterly reminded of how angry Aubrey would be if she saw her smoking, and poured another drink.

She barely moved over the next couple of days, except to use the bathroom and at one point eat a packet of Doritos. She texted Aubrey incessantly, stupid drunken ramblings and pleas for her to come home, and ignored everyone else.

The morning of the third day, she made the trip back to the liquor store - this time on foot - for more scotch and grabbed some peanuts while she was there. The clerk raised his eyebrows at her but she ignored him and stalked home. As she settled back into the crater on the couch she'd formed, there was a knock on the door. She took a swig from the bottle and headed for the door.

It was just Jesse, and she opened the door for him wordlessly. Stumbling back to the couch she took another swig and then grabbed her packet of cigarettes.

"What the fuck is going on?" Jesse asked. "I've been texting you for two days it's like you just fell off the planet, and now I see you're planning on switching your blood to scotch. And smoking?"

"She left me Jess," Beca said gruffly, lighting a cigarette. "Bree left me."

"When?" he asked, wrinkling his nose as he perched gingerly on the arm of the couch.

"Three days ago," she said, pulling an ashtray toward herself.

"Have you moved off this couch since?"

"Only to get more scotch and cigarettes," she said. "I have to figure out how I'm gonna get her back."

"What? Why?"

"Because she's the love of my fucking life, Jesse, that's why," Beca said. "Because she's everything that I love in the world, everything that reminds me the world isn't packed with assholes, she's literally the only person I need, I want and I crave, and I let her get away."

"It's not your fault she can't handle the lifestyle," Jesse said.

"No, it is my fault for ignoring her for fame and money when I promised I wouldn't," Beca said. "The lifestyle doesn't mean I get to be an asshole."

"Maybe you guys aren't right together," he suggested. She poured another healthy glass of scotch.

"I'm not right without her," Beca said, taking a long drag on the cigarette. "Why don't you understand this? I had the perfect woman. She's smart and feisty and gorgeous and opinionated and compassionate, and we loved each other more than anything else. I had it all. At least I did until I fucked it all up, getting wasted every night with you. And I'm not right without her here."

"I can be that," Jesse said assertively. "I can be the one you need, the one you love." Beca realised what he was saying.

"Oh my god," she said. "Jesse… are you fucking serious right now? Still?"

"Well…"

"No," Beca said. "Get the fuck out of my house."

"Beca, just wait," he said. "I understand the lifestyle. I won't put demands on you, I'll just be there."

"GET THE FUCK OUT OF MY HOUSE!" she yelled. "Dammit Jesse. I'm not interested in you like that. I'm gay and you've fucking known that since college. And now I can't even trust that you weren't trying to drive a wedge between me and Bree all along. So get the fuck out of my house because if you don't I'm going to do something stupid."

"Beca."

"Get out of my house Jesse, that is the last time." He got up and left. Now she was angry. Because Jesse was a fucking idiot but so was she for falling for it. She looked down at the glass in her hand and saw it was shaking. She couldn't really remember when she started drinking like this. Sure, she and Aubrey might have the occasional drink, but since Jesse had come to town... it clicked in her. Jesse was the one pushing another glass into her hand most nights.

She hurled the glass at the wall, happy to see it shatter into pieces. Something was going to have to change and that something was her. She had to get sober, get her head sorted out and figure out a way to get Aubrey to take her back.

She took the almost full bottle of alcohol to the kitchen and poured it down the sink, crying angry tears at herself. She felt stupid and she felt ashamed of what she'd become. Everything she'd ever needed had been sitting in this apartment the whole time and she'd been too stupid to see it until it was too late.

She dragged herself into the bathroom and turned the shower on as hot as she could stand it. Then she got in and scrubbed three days worth of grime off of herself, trying to rid herself of the smell of stale scotch and artificial cheese powder. Her head was aching again when she got out so she took some aspirin and made herself some black coffee.

She cleaned up the mess of glass and scotch she had made earlier and tidied up what Aubrey would definitely have described her "bachelor filth". Then she lit a cigarette and sat at the kitchen counter. She had to make some changes. Real changes, concrete changes to prove to Aubrey that she could be the kind of person she deserved.

She knew she wasn't the kind of person who was strong enough to quit drinking on her own. It was everywhere in her work functions, it'd be one weekend and she'd get some random person handing her a drink. And alcohol was the easiest way she had to ignore her other problems. She needed proper help. But she didn't know how to do that, though she knew someone who did. She plugged her dead cell phone in to charge and once it had enough battery life, she selected a contact and hit the call button.

"Hey," came Stacie's voice. "Been a while, Beca, how are you?"

"Fucking horrible," she said honestly. "Bree moved out."

"What!?" Stacie exclaimed. "When?"

"Three days ago," Beca said. "I don't blame her, I'm a fucking train wreck. She's with Chloe, she won't talk to me but at least she's not alone. It's a long story, but that isn't the direct reason why I called."

"So what can I do for you?"

"I need a referral, believe it or not," Beca said. Stacie was a doctor, a good one. And she'd be able to get her what she needed.

"What for?" she asked. "I can't give you stuff without an examination Becs, you know the rules." The other woman took a deep breath.

"I want to check myself in to rehab."

"Rehab?"

"I need to sober up," Beca said. "Since Jesse moved to town I've basically been at the bottom of a bottle most days. Called it work or whatever. And I've just drunk enough scotch to drown a horse. I'm not being the kind of partner I promised Aubrey I'd be and I need to get my shit together if there's going to be a chance in hell that I can make things better. That's the short version, anyway."

"So you want one of those places that you can check into?" Stacie said.

"Please. A discreet one."

"I know a place," she said. "Expensive."

"Whatever it costs," Beca said. "I lost Aubrey, Stacie. Everything else is forfeit as far as I'm concerned."

"Let me make a call," she said. "I'll call you back." They disconnected and Beca smoked another cigarette while she waited. She still felt like shit, emotionally and physically. She hadn't eaten properly in days so she made herself eat a banana and some yogurt. Her phone rang just as she was making another cup of coffee.

"Stace?" she asked.

"Yeah," she said. "I can get you into a ninety day clinic. Sorry, wellness facility."

"Ninety days?" Beca said.

"Are you serious about this or not?" Stacie asked.

"No, I am," Beca said. "I promise, I'll stay the whole ninety days."

"It's in Jersey," Stacie continued. "Super discreet, most people don't even know it's there. All celebs and semi famous types so security is tight as shit. They can take you Tuesday, day after tomorrow. I can email you the check in info and paperwork in a few minutes."

"Pay upfront?"

"Yeah they'll charge it to your card onsite," Stacie said. "Do you want me to drive you?"

"Um…" Beca hadn't thought about that. She didn't want a car service or a cab driver to spill where she was. "Sure. I appreciate it."

"Take a look at the paperwork and call me later," Stacie said. "I'll sign it when I come pick you up. And Beca?"

"Yeah?"

"I know it's shitty right now, but at least you're working on yourself," Stacie said. "I'm proud of you for admitting you need help. And getting it."

"If there is anything I can do to get her back," Beca said, "I will absolutely do it." She hung up and then went and got her laptop out to wait for the email from Stacie.

When she got it, she read it carefully. It was going to cost her a small fortune, and if she didn't stick out the ninety days there was no refund. And it was a non smoking kind of place, which was probably a good thing, since she had pretty much chain-smoked the entire past couple of days. There was a lot of things she had to fill in and a whole stack of questionnaires she had to answer.

Admission was at ten am on Tuesday morning. She didn't even have much time to get her shit in order. She'd need to go and get a few things and she wanted to try and contact Aubrey again. She sent it to the printer and picked up her phone, because there was another call she was going to have to make first.

"Chester?" Beca said. "I've gotta do something pretty drastic right now and I gotta make sure you understand that it's non-negotiable."

"Like what?" her boss asked.

"I'm checking myself into rehab," Beca said. "I need you to pull me off book for ninety days."

"Ninety days!?" Chester said. "Are you kidding?"

"No," Beca said. "I'm not in a good way right now and I need to change quite a lot of things. And it all starts with me putting down the god damned bottle and getting sober."

"Ninety days, Beca. What am I going to do?"

"Apologise," Beca said. "I won't be contactable for the entire time, either. I'm serious about this, Chester."

"I don't think that I can let you go for that long," he said.

"You will," Beca said. "Or you'll get a resignation instead."

"That's a bit dramatic isn't it?"

"Not really," Beca said. "Up to you."

"Can't you do like a twelve step or something?" he asked. "That shit's a thing, isn't it?"

"No," Beca said.

"Dammit," he said. "We have contracts."

"I'll pay them out, I don't give a shit about them," Beca said. "This is more important than work."

"Nothing is more important than the label, Beca," Chester said seriously. Beca paused for a moment. Everyone at the label had that mentality. The label came first. Everything else was second. And that was part of the problem. Aubrey should have been first. They should be first, what they had. And if she was going to be serious about proving to Aubrey just how much she mattered, the next step was obvious.

"Thanks, Chester," she said. "You just helped me make my decision. I'll forward my resignation on to you shortly. And I'll need you to understand that if the media gets word that I'm in rehab, I'll know it came from you and I'll deal with that if necessary."

"Beca, seriously."

"It's the label, Chester," she said. "I've loved it, but making sure the label was first cost me the most important thing in my life. So I need to give it away. I'd appreciate you sitting on this until I release the information myself." She hung up before she could hear any further protests from the man and immediately sent a brief email to officially resign her position with the label.

She already felt considerably lighter. Nobody could place demands on her now. The label was gone. Jesse was gone. She was going to work on herself over the next ninety days, and all that was left up in the air was Aubrey. She decided to take a nap before calling and seeing if she could speak with Chloe before she left.

She took two bottles of water with her, almost draining one before she climbed into bed. She set her phone back on to charge and set an alarm to wake her a little later, and fell into a deep hangover induced sleep.

When she woke she finished the bottle of water and drank half of the second. She found some more aspirin and took those, hoping that her epic scotch hangover would start subsiding soon. She still had a few cigarettes left so she lit one and sat on the balcony, blowing smoke into the night sky. Once she'd finished, she dialed Chloe.

"Beca," Chloe said.

"Chloe," Beca said. "Before you say anything, I know she doesn't want to talk to me."

"So then why are you calling?"

"I was hoping that maybe you could ask her to check on the house for the next couple of weeks, every few days?" Beca said. "Actually, a few months. I'm uh… going away."

"Yeah? Where to?" Chloe asked.

"Rehab," Beca said. "Though they call it a wellness retreat, it's still rehab. Stacie is helping me out. I had an interesting day today. Jesse showed up."

"What did he want?"

"To convince me that Aubrey wasn't right for me but he was," Beca said. "He's been planning to drive us apart for god knows how long. I'm still to blame, I didn't see what was happening. But night after night after night I was out and drunk and Bree was home alone. I need to stop drinking. I need to stop being so easily swayed and I need to get my head right so I can be someone who isn't afraid to love her the way she deserves. So yeah, if she could go over and check on the house every few days… I'll let you know when I'm due home. And… tell her I still love her. She knows that. But tell her anyway. Tell her I'm trying because I want to make good on the promises I made her."

"I will," Chloe said. "I promise."

"And ask if she'd mind if I might write to her sometime?" Beca asked hopefully. "I don't care if you want to screen the letters, I just…"

"I'll ask her, Beca," Chloe said. "Call if you need anything." She hung up and turned to Aubrey.

"She's checking in to rehab," she said. "Jesse showed up and basically admitted he tried to get in between you guys, getting her drunk and planting ideas in her head. She isn't using it as an excuse, she still admits this is her fault, but she said she needs to dry out and change a few things."

"That's good."

"She asked if you would check on the house."

"Of course."

"And she wants to know if she can write to you from rehab." Aubrey was silent and motionless. "She's trying, Bree."

"I know," Aubrey said. "And there isn't anything about her that I don't still love. But I'm still angry at her."

"So that's a no?"

"It's a yes, but I don't know how I'm supposed to react to her letters."

"She said if you like I could read them first."

"That might be okay," Aubrey said carefully. Chloe watched her for a moment, but didn't say anything. She was all too aware of how much Aubrey was hurting, and she just hoped that Beca would get her shit together and try and make it right.

Beca's headache had almost disappeared by Tuesday morning, but not quite. She popped the last of her aspirin with some water as Stacie helped her lug her stuff into her car. They headed out early, and stopped at a diner that was only partially full of passers through. They ate greasy breakfasts and drank a few cups of black coffee before Stacie decided it was time to get back onto the road.

She drove to the rehab clinic, which wasn't signposted, and it was basically a big, made over mansion tucked into the woods. It wasn't gated and there were no tell tale signs that it was anything other than a house. Stacie pulled up in the driveway and grabbed Beca's suitcase out of the trunk.

"This bit's all you," Stacie said. "If you need anything, you just call, okay?"

"Thanks," Beca said, giving her a brief hug. "I appreciate this, Stacie."

"Anything for you, Captain," she said with a wink. Beca took the handle of the suitcase and wheeled it inside.

"Beca Mitchell, checking in," she said to the person behind the desk. She handed the woman the papers as she skimmed it all to make sure it was complete.

Beca was ushered into a room where she was thoroughly examined by a doctor, weighed, measured, blood taken, everything. She was told she could dress back in her normal clothes while they inspected her bag for contraband items. She didn't mind, Stacie had told her that a lot of the people checking in were given the option of rehab or jail so they tried to circumvent the rules. While she waited for them to give them they all clear she fiddled with the chain around her neck. It held Aubrey's engagement ring, a reminder of what she was fighting for. A reminder of what she'd been stupid enough to lose.

Then Beca was beckoned by an orderly who carried her bag down a series of small corridors and into a room. She hadn't gone so far as to imagine what the room might look like. But it was completely nondescript in every way. Single bed. Desk and chair. Nightstand holding an alarm clock. Set of drawers. Laundry hamper. Small bathroom off of one wall. Just a shower, sink and toilet.

The room had a window though, and it was functional, which surprised her. But it only opened about four inches, not nearly enough for any kind of breakout.

"Lunch is at twelve thirty," the orderly said. "But someone will be along to give you a tour in a minute."

"Thanks," Beca said. He nodded his head and disappeared. Beca quietly unpacked her clothes and slid her suitcase under the bed. This was a weird feeling.

She met with a shrink in the afternoon. The woman was probably ten years older than her with a thick Boston accent, and she radiated a sense of having little tolerance for bullshit. Naturally, Beca liked her immediately. Her name was Marley.

"So Beca, why are you here?"

"I'm here because alcohol helped me make some really fucking bad decisions," she said. "I ignored the person I loved until she left me and I know that unless I sort my shit out, there's no chance in hell she'll take me back."

"Your shit being the drinking."

"No," Beca said. "I mean yes, obviously but the drinking was to cover up other stuff that I didn't want to deal with."

"Ah."

"Mainly that I don't actually have a very high opinion of myself so when someone suggested to me that I might not be enough to keep Aubrey happy for the rest of our lives, I believed it," Beca rambled. "That led to me doubting that I ever made her happy and eventually I pushed back the wedding and ignored the fact that I could tell things weren't right and yeah, then she left me."

"You seem to have a pretty good handle on what your problems are," the shrink said.

"It ain't rocket science with me," Beca said. "My folks had a shitty marriage and I never had that example of how to be a good partner. Bree never complained but when Jesse said it'd be a lot of pressure trying to keep her happy, it switched something in my head, you know? Because Bree deserves the best and I know I'm a bit of a fuck up when it comes to that stuff. I feel really inadequate, I guess."

"Why would your friend say that if they knew it would affect you?"

"It's recently been made aware to me that he was trying to drive a bit of a wedge between Bree and I because he's still in love with me, even though he's known I'm gay for like eight years."

"Ouch."

"Yeah. We're no longer friends. And that's when I decided it had to change. Because the alcohol made it really easy to believe Jesse and ignore Aubrey and I kinda promised her I wouldn't do that when I asked her to marry me."

"So you've got some insecurities to work on, but that's good," the shrink said. "I won't get into specifics but a lot of the people who check in here do it voluntarily under the condition that if they don't they go to jail. But you actually want to be here because you have actual problems that you want to deal with and you acknowledge that alcohol plays a part in that."

"Yeah, all of that. I can't be this person and keep letting her down, you know?"

"Aubrey was it?"

"Yeah. She's my fiancée. Or I guess she was, anyway. I wouldn't know what she is now." Beca trailed off and welled up, same thing she did every time she thought about what she'd ruined. "I'm hoping if she sees that I'm making an effort, that I want to better for myself and for her, she might give me another chance."

"Well let's just you and I do everything we can," the shrink said.

It wasn't particularly pleasant, hashing over her history and nitpicking her worst qualities. But she didn't hate it as much as she thought. She met with Marley three days a week, and suffered through awkward group sessions on three others. Sundays were free, because it was apparently important to take a break from the hard work of their recovery.

Beca had written Aubrey every week since she arrived. Pages full with details about therapy and things she'd come to know about herself. Acknowledgements of all the things she'd done that she knew she had to apologise for. Assurances that she loved her, missed her. She hadn't received a letter back, but she was determined to keep communicating with her.

Aubrey had willingly read all of the letters, happy to see that Beca was genuinely working on herself. She hadn't written back yet because she honestly didn't know what to say to her. She was still hurt, still angry, and even though she loved her she couldn't seem to put anything into words that was going to make any sense.

It was late in her stay, past the two month mark, during a session that they were discussing the possibility of Beca and Aubrey reconciling, or what the therapist was more concerned about, not reconciling.

"I guess the question for you is gonna be this," Marley said. "Are you going to see this all as being worth it even if Aubrey doesn't take you back?"

"What do you mean?"

"Don't get me wrong," the shrink said. "I'm not saying Aubrey's not worth it. I'm sure she is. But are you worth it, Beca? Do you think that you're worth this effort if Aubrey isn't at the end of the tunnel?" Beca drifted off and looked out the window. This was common during their sessions. Marley didn't mind because Beca was actually thinking, not just wasting time.

"If Aubrey doesn't take me back," Beca said finally, "it's going to suck. More than anything else I can think of. But I'm still glad I've done this. Because these issues aren't me-and-Aubrey issues, they're mine. So now I've dealt with them and yeah, I hope she does take me back, but even if she doesn't this is going to be good for me going forward. I feel like I'd be able to have a healthy relationship where I'm not always doubting myself and my ability to make someone happy."

"That's great," Marley said. "Have you heard from her yet?"

"No," Beca admitted. "My friend Chloe says she's been reading the letters but she can't seem to write a reply. Like physically can't put any words down. I don't know what that means in terms of us."

"Don't let it get you down," Marley said. "You've really done some great work here, Beca."

"I won't, I promise," Beca replied.

She was sitting in her room later, thinking about the session they'd had earlier. And Aubrey, and why the blonde still hadn't written to her after over two months. She pulled a sheet of paper out of a drawer and began a letter.

_Dear Aubrey  
Today was interesting in therapy. Marley asked me if this whole experience was going to be worth it even if you never take me back. I can see why she'd have to ask that. In the end, I said yes._

_I know I did a lot of horrible things to you because of alcohol and the way I feel about myself. And I'm never going to be able to tell you just how sorry I am. But I've finally come to point where I can say that I'm worth it. I don't think I've ever really believed that I can be a good person, a good partner, until now. Which sounds horrible. I mean, I tried to make you happy and until things went to hell, I think I did a good job. We had a lot of good years before things went bad._

_And if you were to give me another chance, I'd be better. Because I believe I can be. I believe I am. It sounds super cliche but I'd be better at loving you because I actually love myself. And I still love you just as much today as I did the day I asked you to marry me._

_The only thing I need from you is to tell me if I'm wasting my time. Because if there's no chance of us getting back together I would prefer to know that now. So I can prepare myself. And I'll be heartbroken, definitely, but I'll eventually be okay._

_I've really tried here, Aubrey. I've had to sift through everything, all the way back to mom and dad. Jesse, work, everything else. And I can be enough for you, Aubrey, because all you ever wanted was for me to be there. I want to be there. If you'll let me. But I do want to talk to you so I can figure out where I go from here._

_I love you.  
Beca_

Aubrey read the letter after Chloe had read it first, and her chest was aching. Chloe was staring at her.

"So?"

"So what?" Aubrey said.

"So is she wasting her time?" Chloe asked. "Because she's been there a long time and you still haven't managed to get a single letter to her. Because she's working really hard at trying to be a better person. Because she's owned up to doing some really shitty things and then gone out to try and make those things better. Because she still loves you and even though you don't talk about all of this, I know you still love her. So tell me, Aubrey, is Beca wasting her time?"

"I still love her," Aubrey said. "And I'm... Proud of her. And..." She couldn't get the words out.

"And what?"

"And I need to go see her, Chloe. It's time."

"She's allowed visitors on Sundays," Chloe said with a smile. "Stacie said your name is on the list." Aubrey nodded.

Come Sunday morning, Aubrey parked her car in a space that was marked for visitors. She'd spent the entire drive rehearsing what she was going to say. An eloquent speech about forgiveness and trust and promises and taking things slowly. She entered the building and was signed in by the desk clerk, who asked her to take a seat.

Beca was in her room, scribbling on a notepad. She'd done a little songwriting the past couple of weeks, even though she technically didn't have a job to go back to. There was a knock on her door.

"Mitchell?" said one of the orderlies. "You have a visitor." Beca was surprised. Stacie had visited a few times, but she always sent a letter to let her know beforehand. She wondered if it was Chloe, or even Chester from the label trying to get her to change her mind, though he wasn't on her list of cleared visitors. She got up and made her way to the front of the building to see who was waiting.

"Bree?" she said disbelievingly. The blonde slowly got to her feet, but she couldn't remember any of the words she'd rehearsed. She threw herself at the smaller girl and wrapped her arms around her. Beca held on tight, not wanting to let go in case this wasn't actually happening. But it was and Aubrey's arms around her felt like home, like happiness, like security.

Aubrey wasn't sure if it was her who started crying first or Beca, but they were both definitely crying when they finally separated. Aubrey tucked some hair behind Beca's ear. The smaller girl looked good. Calmer, somehow. She wasn't wearing any makeup, dressed simply in jeans and a t-shirt.

"What are you doing here?" Beca asked. "I mean, it's so good to see you, but-"

"I haven't been able to put down in words everything I've wanted to say," Aubrey said. "And I practiced the whole way up here. But it all seems really unimportant because now that I've seen you, all I know is that I love you and I want you to come home."

"I've still got two weeks," Beca said.

"Come home," Aubrey said again. Beca shook her head.

"I want to. I so want to," she said. "But I'm trying this new thing out where I stick to my commitments." Aubrey leaned in and kissed her, their first kiss in many months. They fit together perfectly, like they'd never been apart.

"Do you have time to stay, take a walk? I do have ground privileges." Beca asked. Aubrey nodded. "Let me just grab some shoes."

"Should I wait here?"

"You can come through," Beca said. Aubrey followed her through quiet, narrow corridors and into a small room. She was surprised by its sparseness, the only clues that Beca even slept there was the few notepads on the desk, the picture of them stuck to the wall next to the bed and the converse on the floor.

"Yeah, it's not much," Beca said, reading her mind. "But I don't need much, it turns out."

They left through a side door, Aubrey slipping her hand into Beca's as they walked along a path toward a wooded area. The gesture made Beca grin from ear to ear. Surely this was a good sign.

"I'm sorry I haven't written," Aubrey said quietly. "I haven't been able to figure out what I want to say."

"You don't have to say anything," Beca said. "This is my mess. And I'm glad you're here."

"I've missed you so much," Aubrey said. "And I am really proud of you, Beca. For coming here, for admitting that the alcohol was a problem, for dealing with all your other stuff with Jesse and your folks and everything."

"It was rock bottom, Bree," Beca said. "Without you. Then Jesse confessed that he still had feelings for me and it hit me that he was the one plying me with drinks and feeding that insecurity I had about not being good enough for you. I needed to change that, I needed to change the way I thought about myself and start getting rid of things that weren't helping me be good to you the way I promised. Also the way that I deserved. I shouldn't feel bad about myself, Bree, and he knew exactly what to say to make me worry."

"Have you heard from Jesse since?" Aubrey asked.

"No," Beca said. "Stacie said he called her, but I literally don't want any part of him now. He knew exactly what he was doing and he really exploited that. But I have more news than that, Bree."

"Like what?" she asked. They were walking toward a clearing that Beca sometimes liked to sit at. She pointed Aubrey to a fallen log and she sat down.

"Before I came here, I resigned from the label," Beca explained.

"What!? Why?" Aubrey asked.

"It wasn't my intention," Beca said. "I asked Chester for time off to come here and he was less than enthusiastic. And then he said that the label comes first, and I realised that's not what I want. I don't want the label to come first, I want us to come first. I want to keep the promise that I made to you when I asked you to marry me, when I swore that I'd make you my priority forever."

"But you love that job," Aubrey said.

"Not more than I love you," Beca said. "I'll be fine, I'll be able to get work anywhere, hell I can work on my own if I want. But that's not what my priority is any more. It never should have been. So I'm taking some time off and I'll see where I go from there." Aubrey leaned in and kissed her softly.

"I love you too, Beca," Aubrey said. "I love you and I know I left you. But when you come home in two weeks, I'd really love to be there. I'd like to be in our house, if that's okay." Beca smiled, a full blown smile that made Aubrey's heart race in her chest. She missed that beautiful face.

"I would love that," Beca said. "I also want you to know that I have this." She pulled the chain out from under her shirt, revealing Aubrey's ring.

"Oh."

"I am going to give it back to you," Beca said. "But not yet. I want to give it back to you when I'm done here and we're back together and I can make a whole new set of promises about what our life together is going to be like. But first, I need you to let me tell you in person and not through a letter… I'm sorry, Aubrey. I let you down and I ignored you. I broke a lot of promises and I hurt you. You were completely right to leave me, and I'm sorry that's what it took for me to get off my ass and realise how bad things had gotten. But I promise that I'm going to be better. I promise that everything I said to you when I asked you to marry me, that's how things are gonna be. Better than that even." Aubrey wrapped her arms around her tightly.

"I love you, Beca," she said. "And I forgive you. And I know you've put a lot of work in, work on your own self worth and stuff. But I just want to reassure you that Jesse was wrong. Because the only thing I need to be happy for the rest of my life is you. You always were enough for me, and I hate that he made you think otherwise."

"Me too," Beca said. "So you'll move back in?" Aubrey nodded.

"I will," Aubrey said. "I'll be there when you come home. I'll get rid of all the alcohol in the house, whatever you need." Beca just leaned against her and felt an arm wrap around her again. They sat there for a few moments enjoying being with each other.

"I've missed this," Aubrey said. "I hated being without you, Beca. I know it was my choice but I still hated it."

"I hated it, too," Beca said. "But I'm done taking you for granted."

"How has it been?" Aubrey asked. "Not the therapy, the giving up alcohol?"

"Weird," Beca said. "First month or so, six o'clock would roll around and I'd be craving a beer or a scotch or something. They only medicated me for like four days pretty close to the start but I was drinking pretty heavily right until I decided to check in. The cigarettes were harder."

"You smoke again?"

"I did for a couple days," Beca admitted. "But damn they're hard to let go of."

"Is there anything in the house you need me to get rid of?" Aubrey asked.

"I pretty much got rid of it all before I left," Beca said. "And you don't have to give up alcohol for me, Bree."

"I don't drink much anyway," Aubrey pointed out. "It won't make any difference not having it in the house." They got up and continued their walk through the grounds, Aubrey commenting that it was quite pretty. By the time they got back it was after lunch and they were both hungry. Typically if someone missed a meal they could grab pre-made sandwiches from a fridge in the dining area. It wasn't uncommon, especially on Sundays, and the food was actually pretty good. Beca snagged them both roast beef and gruyere sandwiches and a pair of freshly baked apple and blueberry muffins.

"Wow, this is better food than I expected," Aubrey said, biting into the sandwich.

"Better be, the price they charge here," Beca said. They shared a meal together, then some coffee, and by the time Aubrey said she had to leave, Beca didn't want her to go. But she walked her out to her car and kissed her, Aubrey promising to write before she was due home.

"I love you," Beca said.

"I love you too," Aubrey said. She leaned in for one last kiss and then got in her car to drive home.

Beca talked about it the next day in her session. She told Marley that Aubrey had come up to see her, that they'd talked and that she was moving back in. The older woman had suggested they talk about her expectations about what things would be like when she got home, so that was their focus for the week.

The last Monday of her stay, she was allowed a phone call to arrange her release. Originally, Stacie was going to come and pick her up. But now that she and Aubrey had reconciled, the blonde was insisting on coming to get her. Since she was only allowed the one call, she called Aubrey and asked her to make sure she called Stacie to tell her about the change of plans. She also said to tell her she'd call her once she was home. She owed Stacie a lot, and she wanted to make sure she conveyed to her just how appreciative she was for everything.

The staff at the facility did put on a special dinner the night before she left. There wasn't many people in attendance at any one time, and Marley had insinuated that at least half of the people who checked in either bailed or were discharged for breaking rules before ninety days. So making it the full term of the program was rarer than someone might think. Nobody gave speeches or anything, but a few of the staffers did come past to wish her well and congratulate her.

She couldn't wait to be home. After dinner she'd gone back to her room and stripped all of her personal stuff off of the walls, and packed everything into her suitcase. Then she simply lay around waiting for bed time, knowing that once she was asleep it wouldn't be much longer.

She was awake as the sun rose, which was way too early. She didn't want to eat this early and the kitchen hadn't started cooking breakfast, but the coffee pot was always on 24 hours a day. The unwritten rule was that taking away, alcohol, drugs, nicotine and then caffeine would have been crossing some kind of line. Beca didn't care, she and the few others she'd talked to during her stay were just glad it was available. She made a cup and took it out to sit on the front porch. Some of the staff were just arriving for the day, Marley included.

"Today's the day, huh?" Marley said, pausing next to her.

"Yep," Beca said. "Couldn't sleep or anything last night. But I'm glad I ran into you. Because I needed to thank you for helping me through this."

"No need to thank me," Marley said. "It's my job after all. But you're welcome. I like a patient who doesn't make excuses. And you never did. Is Aubrey picking you up?"

"Yep, she'll be here at ten," Beca said.

"Well, good luck, Beca," Marley said. "Something tells me you're gonna make it."

"I plan on it," Beca said. The other woman headed inside and Beca finished her coffee in the morning sun. Breakfast was being served up as she went back inside and she figured it would be as good a way as any to waste a little more time. She took some oatmeal and added a good spoonful of honey and a sprinkle of cinnamon, and sat at the end of a table in the mostly empty room.

She hadn't really gotten to know any of the other patients. She didn't outright ignore them or anything, but it wasn't really a social place. It was almost like some unwritten code that they didn't talk about why they were there or their respective lives on the outside. But they were all aware of who each other was, pretty much. She finished her breakfast and went and washed up, packing the very last few of her possessions in her bag to wait out the almost hour until Aubrey arrived.

She sat on the front porch until she saw Aubrey pull up. She bounded toward her, wrapping her arms tightly around her and kissing her hello. When she broke away, Aubrey was grinning.

"Ready to come home?" she asked.

"So ready," Beca said.

"I'm ready for you to be home," Aubrey said. "I moved back in a couple of days ago and it just feels wrong without you there."

"Well let's go and get my bag so we can bail," Beca said. Aubrey took her hand and followed her back to the tiny room, Beca checking once more that she remembered to get everything before they dragged it out to reception. Beca approached the woman at the counter.

"Beca Mitchell, checking out," she said. The clerk smiled at her, and had her sign a few pieces of paperwork, and then told her she was free to go. Aubrey took the bag this time, carrying it to the car for her. Beca was happy to sit in the passenger seat and just stare at Aubrey for the entire drive. They stopped for coffee just over halfway back, and Beca held her hand the entire time they were sitting at the table. She was just so grateful to have her back.

Once they got home, Beca eagerly brought her bag inside and took it straight into the bedroom, kicking her shoes off. The place had a much better energy to it with Aubrey's stuff back where it all belonged. She breathed in and out deeply. She felt good. Aubrey's arms wrapped around her and she leaned back into the blonde's embrace.

"I love you," she murmured to Aubrey.

"I love you, too," she said. "Was there anything that you wanted to do now that you're home?"

"I want to lay in that bed next to you and hold you," Beca said.

"Seriously?" Aubrey said.

"Seriously," Beca said. "Just for a while." Aubrey kicked her shoes off and they both climbed into the bed together. The blonde curled up against her chest and Beca's arms wound around her. It wasn't long before they were both dozing off content in the moment with each other.

When Aubrey woke, Beca was sitting up in the bed fiddling with the chain around her neck. Aubrey rolled over.

"Everything okay?"

"Sure," Beca said. "It's perfect except for this one thing I have to do." She unclasped the chain and slid the ring off. Aubrey sat up and waited for Beca to speak again.

"Last time I gave you this ring," she said, "I made a whole bunch of promises that I didn't keep very well. So I don't want to make those promises again. I want to keep it simple. If you take this ring, Aubrey, and say you'll marry me… I promise that I will love you as best as I can for as long as you'll have me. To be there for you whenever you need. So please… Bree…" she held it out to her.

The blonde leaned over and kissed her softly. She accepted the ring and slid it back onto her finger.

"I will marry you," Aubrey said. "And I promise the same - to love you as best I can for as long as you'll have me." Beca kissed her this time, and Aubrey kept the kiss going. She pulled Beca toward her and down onto the mattress again, putting the last out of place puzzle piece back where it belonged.


End file.
